The Mount Series Boxset

by K D Grace

  ‘May I help you?’

  With a start, Rita turned to find herself face to face with a woman swathed in black, caressing a martini. The parts of her anatomy that weren’t being fondled by designer silk were dripping in pearls and diamonds, which Rita had no doubt were real. In fact, she was sure any one item of the woman’s stunning ensemble would have maxed out her credit card and cost her first born, if she ever had one. Intimidation hit like a slap in the face, and she would have happily slipped back out the door and made a run for it if she hadn’t been caught in the act, or at least that’s how she felt. She stepped forward and offered a weak smile. ‘Yes. I’m here to meet Edward.’ She hoped no last name was required.

  The woman did not smile back. ‘Of course. You must be Rita. Edward’s expecting you. Come with me.’

  She was led through a restaurant full of sleek diners who spoke quietly over the tinkle of fine crystal and silver, then past a dance floor, where couples moved to a big band medley. Up above the dining room on a cast iron catwalk, no doubt a remnant of the original warehouse, stood the exquisite Vivienne gazing out over the diners below like a queen overlooking her realm That was pretty much what she was, Rita thought. By her side, and slightly in the shadow, stood a man bending to whisper in her ear. She didn’t seem pleased with whatever he was telling her.

  The woman in black hurried Rita past the queen of The Mount and her consort, down a long hallway that opened on to several private dining rooms, most with private dance floors surrounded by dark, intimate booths.

  ‘The Mount is a dance club,’ the woman said, noticing Rita’s curiosity. ‘Mostly ballroom and Latin. It was once an old wool warehouse. Restoring it was quite a risk, but you’d be surprised at the number of people who love to dance.’ Rita wondered what planet this woman thought she was from that she needed to tell her the obvious. Everyone in London knew the guidebook history of The Mount. But it was what the guide books didn’t say that intrigued everyone.

  In one of the more intimate dining rooms the woman guided her to a lushly upholstered booth near the back away from the dance floor and the few other diners who occupied the room.

  ‘Edward will join you shortly.’ With that, the woman turned on you-could-only-afford-to-fuck-me-in-your-dreams stilettos and retreated back through the maze of rooms.

  Before she was out of sight, a server approached Rita’s table with two glasses and a bottle of Moët et Chandon on ice. ‘I’m Aurora.’ She sat her burden down on the table. ‘Edward has instructed me to apologise for his small delay.’ It was only her name and a slight feminine pout which assured Rita that Aurora was actually a woman. Her androgynous features were accentuated by white blonde hair cropped short. She was dressed in a black suit, waistcoat and tie, completely camouflaging the swell of her small breasts. When she spoke, even her voice was deep, and gravelly. ‘There is one other thing Edward asked me to give you.’ From her pocket, the waitress produced a black velvet blindfold. ‘He asks that you wear this. He said you would understand.’

  A frisson of anticipation laced with the tiniest hint of fear ran up Rita’s spine and accumulated at the tips of her nipples as the waitress stepped behind her and secured the blindfold. That done, she filled a glass and placed it in Rita’s hand. ‘Enjoy the fizz,’ she said. Then she left.

  The scent of oregano and basil and other more subtle seasonings blended with the smell of expensive perfume. Glasses clinked, people laughed, and somewhere in the background the melodic strains of String of Pearls wafted on the air. She had only just tasted the champagne when a warm body scooted into the booth next to her. She recognised Edward’s scent a split second before his hand cupped her cheek and his mouth covered hers, familiar territory, she thought, as her tongue became reacquainted with his.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind the blindfold,’ he said when he came up for air. He slid warm fingers under the spaghetti straps and caressing her left shoulder. ‘Being in the dark was so much fun last time.’

  She ran a hand over his cheek, raking a thumb lightly over a fluttering eyelid. ‘What about you? You’re not wearing a blindfold. That’s hardly fair.’

  He chuckled, and she felt his warm breath against her earlobe. ‘I never said I play fair. I was right though. You are exquisite, but I wouldn’t have imagined your hair to be chestnut’ He caressed her tresses, pushing a strand back behind her shoulders to fondle her nape. ‘For some reason I was certain that cascade of silk would be strawberry blonde.’ He ran his other hand up the outside of her thigh, toying with the exposed edge of her garter belt, making her squirm. ‘Guess in some cases, there’s just no substitute for the sense of sight.’

  ‘But I want to see you too. I want to know what you look like.’

  ‘You will in good time. That is if you want to play my little game. Of course you could take off the blindfold. I can’t stop you, but admit it, it’s fun not knowing. A bit of an adventure, an initiation almost.’

  ‘An initiation?’

  ‘Yeah, you know, at the beginning, when a man and a woman are just getting to know each other, it’s like an initiation, don’t you think?’

  ‘I never thought of it like that, kind of like a hazing?’

  He chuckled. ‘Can be. Could be, if you want it to be.’ He nipped her earlobe, ‘Or maybe like an induction into some secret cult with secret rituals of wild, kinky sex.’

  ‘Mmm. Sounds good. Where do I sign up?’

  Another chuckle. ‘All you have to do is keep the blindfold on until I say you can take it off. Let your other senses do the work.’ His finger slipped beneath the suspender to stroke her thigh, making concentration next to impossible.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to be a member of a secret sex cult.’ Breathing was becoming more of an effort as his touch became more insistent. ‘OK then. I’m in. Have your way with me.’

  There was a long moment of silence, and for a split second Rita wondered if she had said something wrong, if she been too forward, too quick with her answer. But just when she was about to back track, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. She could almost hear his heart beating in his words when at last he spoke. ‘Then welcome to your new playground.’ His hand slipped underneath the spaghetti straps to cup her breast and stroke her engorged areola. ‘Expensive dress?’

  ‘What?’ Intimidation knotted her stomach. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Not really.’ She could hear him filling the champagne flute. ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ He lifted the glass to her lips. Just as the taste hit her tongue he pulled it away and she felt a cold wet splash over her left breast. She stifled a yelp, but not before his lips clamped down tight on her drenched nipple, and the friction of tongue and teeth on wet silk caused delicious shock waves down her belly all the way to her cunt.

  ‘You know,’ he said between sucklings, ‘at the command of Louis 15th, the original champagne glass was said to have been shaped like the breasts of his mistress, Madame Pompadour. I can understand why. Once you’ve suckled champagne from a beautiful breast, champagne alone, no matter how expensive, isn’t nearly as nice.’

  Another cold splash across both breasts and down her cleavage. She gasped and held him to her as he shoved down the spaghetti straps and freed her into his hungry mouth. ‘What if people are watching?’ she whispered.

  ‘Don’t worry. I know the owner.’

  Another drizzle of fizz, but this time over her belly, dripping down icily against her mound. She squirmed and ground her hips against the seat.

  ‘Open your legs for me,’ he whispered. ‘There’s one cup even more perfect than Louis’s design.’

  She did as he asked, wriggling and lifting her butt, her pussy clenching in anticipation. In one fluid motion, he shoved the dress up over her hips and pulled her panties down and off over her shoes. She wasn’t sure how he had managed it, but he manoeuvred himself onto the floor beneath the table. Before she could figure it out, cold liquid bubbles tickled her clit and dribbled down between her labia chased by t
he white hot lavishings of his tongue.

  She moaned and everything inside her tensed with the surprise of it, the tantalizing, bracing shock of it, just before everything went molten and she slid down in the booth until her bottom was practically off the seat.

  His hands kneaded her buttocks, thumbs spreading her folds open to the explorations of his mouth. ‘The perfect cocktail,’ he spoke against her pussy. ‘Champagne and lady juices.’

  The music changed to a Latin beat, and behind her blindfolded eyes, bright flashes of colour burst and exploded like fireworks as she rocked and thrust, concentrating only on his mouth and her pussy and the sweet tart scent of champagne bubbling against her slit. She was so focused that she nearly slid off the seat when he pulled away, and she heard scrambling under the table.

  ‘What’s wrong,’ she gasped. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Excuse me, but might I have this dance?’

  The voice near her ear at the side of the booth startled her and she jumped. It wasn’t Edward’s!

  ‘I love Latin dancing, don’t you?’

  ‘What? Dance?’ She gasped. ‘Now’s not a good time. Who are you? Edward? What’s going on?’

  There was the familiar whisper in her other ear. ‘Go with Alex, Rita. Trust me, now’s a very good time.’

  Before she could protest further, she was half dragged, half tangoed on to the floor. ‘How can I dance,’ she panted, ‘when I can’t even see?’

  There was a humid chuckle close to her nape. ‘What? You don’t trust me to lead you?’

  ‘Not when my brain’s in my knickers.’ She struggled to catch her breath.

  ‘You’re not wearing any.’ The words were pressed to her ear in a warm kiss, followed by a sigh of resignation. ‘Oh all right.’ He pulled off the blindfold, and she found herself squinting at a lovely face in a halo of blond curls. A well-muscled man with a dancer’s body pulled her into an intimate tango. She was so close that she could feel the bulge in his trousers and wondered how the hell he could still move so gracefully. Heat flared with the driving pulse of the percussion, and his groin rubbed deliciously against her mound with each shifting beat of the music.

  Without warning, he lowered her into a heart-pounding dip, and she yelped out loud, causing several dancers to glance in their direction. As he pulled her back to him, she spoke between clenched teeth. ‘Is this some kind of a joke, Edward gets me all excited then hands me over to someone else? That is if I was with Edward at all. How the hell would I know?’

  ‘Shshshs.’ Alex covered her mouth with a kiss. ‘Relax. Of course you were with Edward, still are. I’m his gift to you. When you’re done with me, I’ll take you back to him.’

  ‘When I’m done with you? What’s that supposed to mean?’ She shot a glance into the darkness at the edge of the dance floor, but to no avail. She was blindfolded when Alex led her from the table. She had no idea where Edward was.

  Once more he lowered her into a dip, this time pulling her up slowly, lingering to kiss the mounds of her breasts, nipples chilled stiff and clearly visible through the champagne soak fabric. Her pussy clenched with a wave of sensation that reminded her just how close to orgasm she had been when Edward had handed her over. ‘What do you mean you’re his gift to me?’

  ‘Edward’s a bit of a voyeur, and he wants to watch your pleasure.’

  ‘What? And have a wank? Oh that’s just great.’

  Alex chuckled, and she realised his hand was working its way beneath the slit of her dress. ‘Hardly. Edward isn’t exactly what I’d call a wanker. Trust me; he’ll be more than ready for you when you’re finished with me.’ He shoved the hem of her dress aside until her bare pussy pressed against the bulge in his trousers, and then he flicked a finger into her pout so quickly she wouldn’t have been sure it happened if not for the rush of pleasure and wetness. He pulled her still closer. ‘You need to come. Use me. That’s what I’m here for.’

  ‘I thought that was Edward’s job.’

  Another chuckle. ‘I promise you, Edward won’t disappoint.’ He thrust hard against her. ‘Do you want me?’

  ‘What do you think? You just fingered my cunt.’

  Another dip, this time slow and serpentine. With a deft hand, he freed his cock. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but there, in plain sight with moves that would have made a magician jealous, he slipped his substantial erection between her legs, then he lifted her onto him. With one thrust and a grunt she was completely penetrated. All she could do was wrap her legs around him and hang on, marvelling that with each thrust he never missed a beat of the music. In fact, he continued the dance as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, hands cupped supportively under her arse, dancing amid the few other couples who moved beneath the sparkle of the disco ball. Were they blind? Could they not see that Alex was slinking around the dance floor, hammering her cunt with each pulse of the tango?

  And she didn’t care. It was totally insane, but she didn’t care. They were thrusting and swaying with the music, and somewhere in the darkness Edward was watching with his cock aching to be inside her. She wondered if he were touching himself. She wondered if his balls felt close to bursting. She certainly hoped so. She wondered if, when she returned, he would take her right there in the booth, her pussy still wet from her erotic dance with Alex. She imagined her fizz-soaked cunt swallowing up Edward’s penis in hungry gulps.

  That did it. Suddenly it was as though champagne had been uncorked inside her. She gave a startled little cry as her orgasm exploded up through her, rocking her from head to toe with its impact.

  When the aftershocks subsided and the music stopped, Alex danced her off the floor to a discreet nook near a linen cabinet and helped her dismount. Then with a heavy grunt, he spurted his wad into a handkerchief he’d extricated from his pocket. When he finished wiping his cock, he said, ‘It wouldn’t be polite for me to come inside you when you’re with Edward.’

  The sense of excitement she felt at Alex’s words was visceral. And surprising. She’d just had totally hot sex with him, and in truth she wouldn’t know Edward if she saw him, but still it was Edward she wanted. Maybe their time together on the train had somehow bonded them. It was certainly a relief knowing that he hadn’t pawned her off, even on such a good lover as Alex.

  While Alex tucked himself in, Rita had time for a quick glance around the room. Her eyes now accustomed to the light, she could see only one booth occupied by a single diner. And though that booth was in shadow, she could still make out the shape of a tall muscular man seated, watching.

  ‘There, now I’m presentable again.’ Alex held the blindfold up for Rita. ‘I’ll just slip this on and take you back to Edward.’

  ‘Wait.’ She ran a hand through her dishevelled hair and smoothed down the front of her wet dress. ‘I’m sure I look a mess. Can I just nip to the ladies and freshen up a bit before you take me back? I’d feel so much better.’

  He nodded to the restrooms on the other side of the linen closet, then handed her the blindfold. ‘I’ll wait here.’

  She locked herself in the stall and plopped down on the throne to plan her next move. Though she had agreed to the blindfold, suddenly she wanted desperately to see Edward, to know what he looked like. And, in all fairness, it would serve him right to wait with a raging hard-on while she took her time in the loo. After all, he had handed her off to Alex just when things were getting hot. She would sneak up behind, put the blindfold on him, then she would be the one in control, and what fun she would have.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Rita Holly. Come with us.’

  She had just stepped out of the ladies and was sneaking around behind the linen closet. To her relief, Alex was gone, and the coast was clear to Edward – at least it had been until the two tank-sized security guards in Armani suits appeared out of nowhere, flanking her and herding her back down the hall toward the main restaurant.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ she asked. ‘I was just heading back to my
table and –’

  ‘We know what you were doing, Ms Holly. Alex gave us the heads-up. You’re not very good at following rules, are you?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  The smaller of the two grabbed the blindfold away from her and held it up.

  ‘Oh that. Edward said the blindfold was –’

  The guard held up his hand. ‘Rules are rules.’

  They marched her down the hall and through the main restaurant, where she was suddenly, painfully aware of her dishevelled appearance and how it must look, her being escorted by two glorified bouncers.

  ‘I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t treat me like this.’ In spite of her best efforts to remain calm, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone in the restaurant was looking on in disapproval.

  As they turned down another hallway, the big bouncer opened the first door they came to and motioned her inside. Her heart jumped in her throat as the door slammed behind her.

  There was a gravelly laugh. ‘You’re not a prisoner if that’s what you think.’

  She turned with a start and found herself face to face with Aurora, the waitress, who offered her a feline smile. ‘You’re free to go whenever you like. Shall I call you a cab?’

  ‘Where’s Edward? I want to see him.’

  Aurora’s gaze took in Rita’s wet top nearly bursting with her heavy nipples, then followed the line of her body down to where her thighs came together and the dress clung to her champagne soaked mound leaving little to the imagination.

  ‘You enjoyed Alex, I assume.’

  ‘Is that what this is all about? I was tricked. I had a date with Edward, but I’ve never seen his face, then Alex asked me –’

  ‘Enough!’ Aurora raised her hand, and for a frightening moment, Rita thought she was going to slap her. ‘I know all about you and Edward. We tried to tell him you didn’t belong here, that it would be a mistake to bring you, but he wouldn’t listen, would he?’